I'll Cross Your T's If You Dot My I's
by Brovaries
Summary: “Mr. Logan? Is there anything you find particularly humorous about Hitler committing suicide?” Beastboy and Raven are passing notes in class. RR. Oneshot. BBxRae.


**This is a small oneshot I came up with a couple hours ago. Don't worry, my other story 'When Time Freezes' is being worked on! :D**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TT or anything copyrighted like Samsung, Jansport, etc.  
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**I****'****ll Cross Your T****'****s if You Dot My I****'****s **

He was bored. He was bored of watching Mr. Allan flail his arms around during his endless rants about World War II. He was bored of sitting in the back of the classroom where he could listen to all the All American Rejects and Nickelback he wanted. He was bored of entertaining himself with a rolled up piece of eraser that rotated up and down his desk with a flick of the thumb. _And_, he was bored of Rachel, the love of his life (though she didn't know it), ignoring him. Garfield knelt forward and tugged on some chick's hair to ask for some school supplies. She instantly whipped around in her seat and glared.

"Can I borrow a piece of paper?" he asked with his signature grin.

"Do I look like Wal-Mart to you?" the girl snapped in a hushed voice. Garfield raised his hands as if saying sorry for disturbing her peace and she turned to focus on the teacher's notes. Mr. Allan was now speaking of the terrible occurrence that killed millions of Jews. The Holocaust. This made Garfield wonder why he wasn't teaching anything about prepositions or double negatives or garbage like that. After all, this was English class! Garfield slouched in his seat and pulled his white earphones out of his ears and noticed kids turning to find out where the blaring rock music was coming from. He clicked the iPod off and hid it on the floor. Garfield sighed and began to rapidly tap his nubby pencil against the Nike sneaker that covered his foot. Suddenly, Rachel turned to look at him with an annoyed face. He smiled at did a loving gesture that meant 'I love you' with his hands. She rolled her eyes and continued to jot down the main topics of Mr. Allan's speech for the quiz the next day. Garfield scoffed when she didn't return the gesture and ran his eyes over his Jansport backpack. He hesitantly unzipped it and took a deep breath in case of any creepy stenches. He already knew what was residing in his backpack. A four day old sandwich. Unsharpened pencils. His ratty Samsung cell phone. A couple of quarters. Garfield dug his hand deeper into the flat, almost empty bag and nearly puked when he felt his fingers brush against fur. He yanked his hand out and busily wiped it on his jeans. Garfield flipped the last blank sheet of paper the used notebook that was sitting on his desk and scribbled a secret message that was meant for Rachel's eyes only.

The girl beside him, Rachel, raised an eyebrow. Before she could block him from starting their usual routine of passing notes, she found a small sheet of paper on her desk.

_Hello. What are we doing after class today?_

She suddenly realized that this period was the last class before the bell rang for dismissal and silently groaned. Every Wednesday she'd have to tutor Garfield in AP Psychology, Calculus, and Pre-Ap Literature. How he got into those classes, she'd never know but she did know that Garfield was lazy on the outside, but semi intellectual on the inside. Rachel pulled out her ballpoint pen and tried to inconspicuously reply without anyone finding out she passed notes with Gar Logan.

_I am going to tutor you while you pay attention like you should be doing now._

He smiled.

_After that?_

_I will go home and relax myself with a cup of tea and you will do whatever the hell you do when you're at home._

Garfield let out a snicker and Mr. Allan looked up.

"Mr. Logan? Is there anything you find particularly humorous about Hitler committing suicide?"

The entire class turned to look at him and as usual, he had a handy and humorous retort.

"Nope. I find it humorous that you're still calling me 'Mr. Logan' when I asked to be called the G-MAN."

The class erupted in laughter at Garfield's comment and Mr. Allan shook his head. "One more crack and detention after school today."

He flipped his blond hair back and tapped the pencil on his desk.

"Sorry, I have a date. Her name is _Raquel_," he grinned while shooting a sideways grin at Rachel. Some kids turned to look at her and she blushed a light shade of pink. Mr. Allan coughed some kind of rude retort and continued to teach his lesson for the day. Rachel shook her head in disgust at Garfield's comments and watched him scrawl some words down.

_Wanna get some hot chocolate? I know a good place. _

Rachel took a second to decipher his chicken scratch and wrote down an insulting reply.

_Get hot chocolate with you? I'd rather jump into a vat of lava._

_You wouldn't jump into that vat without me! Why don't you wanna hang out?_

Garfield slid his response on the floor and the paper crashed her foot.

_I do not wish to spend some of my valuable time with you because I feel that you're a waste of efficiency. _

_If I'm good and on task at tutoring, will you let me buy you hot chocolate?_

Rachel took a second to think. Garfield was immature and annoying. And yet he was funny and sweet.

_......._

_Please?_

_......._

_God Rae. Plz?_

She breathed in deeply to write down her reply.

_Fine. _

Garfield's eyes lit up at her response and heard the bell ring for dismissal. Rachel scurried out of the room along with other students and he tried to gather up his things. Garfield already had it all planned out for when he got home. He'd eat a slice of pie, take a shower, and put something classy on. He knew that girls liked classy. Garfield turned for the doorknob when he heard a throat clear.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Mr. Allan, his bushy mustache flouncing up and down. Garfield's stomach flopped and he feared the worst.

"To my date..."

"Detention. NOW."

Garfield's shoulders slumped. "Crap."

Maybe he'd have to text Rachel to let her know that he couldn't make it to tutoring _or t_he coffee shop. But he'd been waiting for this his entire lifetime! Before he knew it, a piece of paper had been slid on his creaking desk. Garfield sighed at the emptiness of the classroom. He scanned his eyes over the sheet and groaned. It said, Write this sentence: I will not pass notes or disrespect my teacher ever again. 250 times.

Garfield shot a glare at his teacher.

"Don't forget to loop your q's, dot your I's, and cross your t's!"

Who did he think he was? An English teacher?

Oh yeah. He was.

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**TT.**

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Remember to review this oneshot and my other stories as well! Thanks for the support guys. It's making me work!

(The title comes from writing actual sentences. My teacher would tell us not to forget about crossing our t's...)


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